


don't freak out man

by ficfucker



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: “Oh, God, did y’all finally poison me or sumthin’?”





	don't freak out man

“Okay, so, don’t freak out but-”

 

“Oh, God, did y’all finally poison me or sumthin’?” Rhett asks jokingly, looking up from his laptop. 

 

Link is rubbing his thumbs against his pointer and index fingers, which is a nervous tic Rhett has noticed he’s adapted over the years when filming goes wrong or he’s anxious to talk about some big change. “N-Not  _ poison _ , no, but - okay so maybe one of the aphrodisiacs you tried on More today can actually,” Link shifts from foot to foot once, then blurts out,” - it’s  _ potent… _ !” 

 

Rhett cocks his head to one side, not really believing or understanding him, and smiles smally. “Yes, and? As long as it doesn’t have lactate or maple syrup, I ain’t gonna die, right?” 

 

Link smiles back, but it seems faint and scared. “You won’t  _ die _ , no, but, Rhett, you  _ know _ what an aphrodisiac is, dontcha?”

 

“Just gets you hot and in the mood,” Rhett says dismissively and he checks his phone for the time. “Am I missin’ sumthin’ or can we head out?”

 

Link rubs at the back of his own neck. “Yeah, but I’m drivin’.”

 

Rhett stands and pulls a face. “Mah car, man.” 

 

“Yeah,” Link repeats, “but  _ I’m _ drivin’.”

 

They don’t have much to pack up, just their normal to-work bags and their laptops, and they say goodbyes to Chase and Alex on the way out the door. Stevie mentions that they have to get an outline for next season’s episodes together soon and they both agree to send her some brainstorm lists and storyboards.

 

In the parking lot, Rhett figures he should ask what the deal is. Entertain Link a little. 

 

“So, which one is gonna do me in?” Rhett asks, opening the passenger door to his car. “The cinnamon or the almonds? Or maybe the coconut water is really gonna work it’s magic in a minute.” 

 

“Yer thinkin’ too simple, man,” Link says and he kind of gives Rhett a look. He seems antsy again and this time Rhett takes it a bit more seriously. 

 

“Yeah? Whut is it then?” Rhett buckles up. 

 

“So uh, that tuna we gave ya? It might have… been wolf meat?”

 

“ _ Yeah _ ?” Rhett asks, pushing, but with no anger or venom. 

 

Link starts the car and twiddles his fingers against the wheel. He giggles anxiously. “And it  _ miiiight _ ah been soaked in cobra’s blood fer a bit?” 

 

“Link, oh my god, are you  _ freakin’ _ kiddi-”

 

“But, hey now! It won’t kill ya or nothin’, I promise!” Link raises his hands defensively and shoots Rhett a guilty smile, his lips turned up harder than they needed to be, his blue eyes pleading and large. 

 

Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply. “Is eatin’ wulf even  _ legal _ , dude? Like, where do- where did you guys even  _ buy _ wulf meat from?”

 

Link pulls out of the lot and is quiet a moment, focused on his driving, which is nothing new to either of them. “There was a culling of ‘em somewhere on the East Coast or wherever for population control and Josh got word of it an’ we signed some papers sayin’ we wouldn’t sell it off as beef,” Link explains as if this is an everyday occurance. “Folks in like, the Philippines eat it,” he adds lamely. 

 

“And it was just convenient enough for you to say ‘Oh, no, Rhett, you  _ know _ I don’t eat  _ fish _ ! I can’t have none of that, man’?” Rhett asks harshly, mimicking Link’s voice. 

 

“S-S-Some of it actually  _ was _ tuna, man!” Link sputters out. “Tuna is ‘posed to be an aphrodisiac, too!”

 

“Gosh… I could kill you sometimes,” Rhett mutters, shaking his head. His heart is beating a little faster, but he reigns it in. He knows it’s foolish, after years of eating dog food and pig anus and everything else, but it’s not the gross food factor. 

 

Wolf meat and cobra blood he can handle; that sounds like wasteland caviar, if he’s going to compare it to the apocalypse. 

 

The blatant lying is what gets him. 

 

“I was just curious to see if-if-if it would really change ya, bo! I already  _ knew _ what it was so me tryin’ it- I’d just placebo-effect myself into thinkin’ it was real and I was gonna wait it out, but I felt bad for lyin’ so I’m tellin’ you now…” 

 

“Gee, thanks, Link,” Rhett says sourly and he slouches down in his seat a bit, looking out the window. His stomach turns slightly and he feels warm around the collar. “And  _ you _ do know what an aphrodisiac is  _ yerself _ , dontcha? I’m not gunna turn into a two headed man, you know. I’m just gunna get a mild hard on or whutever it is wulf blood does to ya.” 

 

Link flushes hard and if Rhett had been looking at him, he would have seen him lick his lips absently. “I-I know… Chase and I thought - we figured it’d be funny!” Link hits the brakes abruptly at a red light and smiles apologetically over at Rhett, making him look like a dog who’s been caught chewing shoes. “And it’s  _ payback _ fer the time you told me those-those  _ Anti-Cap _ pills would work an-an’ eat all those  _ dang _ peppers!”  

 

Rhett half laughs. There’s a beat of silence while they wait at the light then Rhett says, “Ya know what, Link? Considerin’ I got you several peppers deep and you hiccupped all day? I’d say a little wulf meat an’ cobra blood is fair game.” 

 

A warmth has started pooling in Rhett’s lower stomach, expanding out and up like a balloon inflating. He assumes Link has forced him into a power of suggestion situation, that arousal is bound to flare the tiniest bit because Link has given it away and made it all seem so dramatic, so he just places a palm flat on his stomach and adds some pressure to soothe it. 

 

Link is smiling, but behind his glasses, his eyes seem hesitant. “That mean I’m still alrigh’ to stick around fer dinner?” he asks, hopeful yet sheepish. 

 

Rhett “psssh”s at him. “Sure, but yer doin’ the dishes, buddy-boy.” 

 

A fantastic wave of tingles crests over the top of Rhett’s head, following the curvature of his skull, and zips down his spine. He sits upright and looks over at Link, who is agreeing to the dishes for the next 4 nights in a row. His mouth feels dry and he licks at his lips. 

 

“ _ Dahng _ , brother, power of suggestion sure is a strong thing,” Rhett mutters, letting his head rest against the cool plane of his window.

 

Link shoots a quick look at Rhett. “Well, hang in there, man, we’re almost to yer place. You can - you know…” With one hand, Link makes a crude jerking off motion. 

 

Rhett pulls a face. “Whut? With  _ you _ around?” 

 

Link is explaining that Rhett can rub one out in the bathroom while Link gets dinner ready when his cock twitches lazily in his jeans. He bites his tongue sharp and tries to focus hard on listening to Link, though him talking about jerking off certainly is not helping, it’s better than letting his mind drift to even dirtier places. 

 

“I mean, whut do you think I did when we were in college? Jus’ never deal mahself a hand of solitaire? I think I woulda  _ di-i-ied _ , dude. Sometimes a good session got me throu-”   
  


“Hol’ up. Did you just say ‘a hand of solitaire’?” Rhett asks.. His fingers curl around his door handle until his knuckles are taut white against his skin. 

 

“Whut? Never heard that one before?” Link sounds like he’s about to giggle and he’s signals to turn into Rhett’s drive. 

 

“I think bein’ on YouTube this long has rotted yer brain. Usin’ code to-to keep it ‘kid friendly’ outside of  YouTube’? Yer losin’ it.” 

 

Link laughs and pulls into the garage, killing the engine. “Oh, trust me, buddyroll, I get away with enuff on air. Innuendos and all, I ain’t worried about sayin’ _ jacking off  _ in front of you.” 

 

Rhett’s stomach fills with a wild heat and he jerks his head away from the window like it’s a live wire and his throat catches funny. “L-Listen, man, I-,” Rhett starts, but instead of finishing he swings the door open and steps out, unfurling his long legs like a praying mantis stretching its forelimbs. 

 

“Jeez, Rhett, ya ‘lright?” Link asks, getting out from his side. 

 

Rhett nods quick three times and starts heading towards the door. His cock isn’t even fully hard yet, but the distinct feeling of being aroused and alert is overwhelming him; his face is flushed, his heart rate is up, the warmth in his stomach is now a heavy and demanding thing. 

 

Compared to his youth, when he was in his teens and truly living from jerk off session to jerk off session, when his thoughts were always “When will I next be alone so I can rub one out?”, Rhett has never felt this way before. It’s a whole new sensation, and Rhett certainly was a healthy lad when it came to masturbation, despite his pairingly healthy fear of The Lord and being caught by his parents. 

 

It’s like seeing a new color. 

 

“Rhett?” Link asks softly from behind. 

 

Rhett is already unlocking the door, fumbling with his keys between his sweaty fingers. “I-I’m good, man, I’ll just- just gimme a minute.” He gets the door open and immediately heads towards the bathroom, nearly dashing. 

 

Rhett locks himself in and sits on the toilet with the lid down, his thighs spread, his shoulders hunched, and he pins his knees with his palms. He feels like panting. His cock is straining hard in his jeans, which are too tight for his liking now, and he looks down at his arousal in disbelief. 

 

“Rhett?” Link repeats. He sounds near to the door, but doesn’t try for the handle. “I-I think we ought to take you to the hospital or sumthing, brotha, you might be havin’ a bad reaction.” 

 

Despite the nervousness to his tone, Rhett could melt at hearing Link’s voice. He wants to close his eyes and listen to Link talk about absolutely anything under the sun and unzip his jeans and let his hands slide down to-

 

“I-I,” Rhett pauses and swallows hard before continuing, “I’m all good, bo. I know I ain’t-ain’t sick… It’s just…  _ you know _ , guess that wulf meat an’ cobra’s blood really-really uh,  _ did _ it for me.” He laughs and it comes out sounding more nervous than he’d like. 

 

“Alright…,” Link says after a moment, but he sounds cautious, like the bathroom might go up in flames any second now. “I’ll be in the kitchen then, I guess.” 

 

“You know where everything is. Jus’ throw on a movie an’ I’ll be out in a bit.” 

 

Link hums his response and his footfalls trail away from the door, leaving Rhett alone enough to feel safe in peeling back his jeans and shoving his hands into his boxers. He groans loudly then slaps a hand over his mouth. 

 

His skin feels ignited, a match struck from the inside, and stroking himself in slow, long gestures adds fuel to the fire. Rhett could drool it feels so good. He keeps his other hand over his mouth, panting now, cupping the humidity with his palm and squirming his thighs on the toilet lid. 

 

“Good lord, Link, what have you done to me?” he whispers, eyes slipping shut. He lets his head fall back, his adam’s apple a peak on his throat. 

 

The warmth in his stomach burns white hot and Rhett bucks up into his fist. He imagines Link looking down at him, tsk-ing his tongue soft, like a teacher disappointed in a favored student. Rhett’s mind is racing too fast to pin down exactly what the words are but it’s something along the lines of “Oh,  _ Rhett _ , look atchu…,” as if Rhett has done a wrong thing, as if Rhett needs Link’s pity and mercy. 

 

“Link,” he mewls, and this time it is not for the sake of questioning his arousal or the prank done to him. 

 

His cock drools precum, his palm completely slick with it, and Rhett opens one eye to look down, see it stringing between his fingers. 

 

Rhett stands, stumbles once over his jeans before they slip off his thighs and pool at his ankles, and waddles over to the door. He cracks it a little. “Link?” he says, his voice a whisper. He clears his throat and tries again, louder this time, “Link?” 

 

“Rhett?” 

 

“W-Wait, be known, I don’t got my trousers on before you come runnin’ this way,” Rhett sputters out. His mind is absolutely scrambled with arousal, but within that trashcan fire, Rhett knows he can’t just flash Link. 

 

“Nothin’ I ain’t seen before,” Link answers and his voice sounds closer. 

 

Rhett can feel himself flushing all the way down to his neck and he pushes the door open a bit more, one hand still inside his boxers, which are rucked down, but not enough to make them fall off. 

 

Rhett is getting distracted with himself again when Link appears in front of him, suddenly like magic, and Rhett startles, a nervous, breathy giggle bubbling out of him. “Lah-Link, could I-?”

 

“Gosh, Rhett, you’re really worked up, huh?” It comes out conversationally, like Link is making a casual observation about the weather or Rhett’s hair and Rhett tries to swallow down a whimper. 

 

“This is already weird enough, man, can I ask for a-a hand on this one?” 

 

Link smirks, smug, and says, “Guess you ain’t that mad at me now, are ya?”

 

“Please, Link, I jus’ gotta-” 

 

“Get on it then, Rhett, I’ve got chicken in the oven so this can’t be a whole long deal, alright?” 

 

Rhett sighs his relief and doesn’t hesitate to grab onto Link’s hips, pulling him in right there in the bathroom doorway, and leans his head to Link’s shoulder. He yanks his boxer’s back up over his shaft and drags himself once over Link’s thigh, which is still clothed. He doesn’t even question the fact that Link so willingly consented, that he seems completely unbothered by all of this. 

 

“Hey, easy now. Don’t be manhandling me,” Link warns. 

 

“You did this,” Rhett complains, but his grip loosens and he keeps his thrusting slow and gentle. The front of his boxers are sticky and warm and the muted friction of Link’s jeans and the heat of his thighs makes him want to cry. 

 

“Still my body.” 

 

“Mm.” 

 

“What’d that stuff do to you, man? Turn ya into a wolf? Actin’ like a dog in heat.” 

 

“ _ Gah _ ,” Rhett chokes out, and he presses his teeth into Link’s shoulder experimentally, just barely biting into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. 

 

“Mindless wit’ it, huh?” Link’s hands snake down Rhett’s back and reach his ass, gripping him there, and Rhett bucks up with a greater arch than previously. “You could do anythin’ in the world you want with me an’ you’re so-so  _ desperate _ yer just humpin’ yerself on me like an animal.” Link smacks Rhett firmly when he says  _ ‘desperate’ _ and Rhett full body shudders. 

 

Rhett’s thighs are shivering, so nerved up, he can barely think straight. “T-Touch me.”

 

“You can ask nicer than that, can’t you, Rhett?” 

 

“ _ Please _ , Link…” 

 

Link hums and his right hand worms between them, blindly reaching for Rhett, and as soon as Link’s hand ducks under Rhett’s boxers and grips him, Rhett moans. He’s too far away from himself to be embarrassed, bt still hides his face further into Link’s shoulder to stifle the sounds. 

 

“Gosh, Rhett, you’re  _ soaked _ .” Link’s hand is twisting and guiding in ways that make Rhett feel like he’s going to pass out from the sensation, overstimulated; so acutely aware of how strong Link’s hands are, calloused and shaped, yet so soft and considerate. And the slickness is vocal. With Link rubbing him like this, Rhett can hear the wetness of it, his face so red, he’s positive he cannot blush further. 

 

“Christ, Link, I-”

 

“Go on, Rhett.” 

 

“I’m gettin’ close, Link, I’m-”

 

“I said it’s a’right, Rhett.” 

 

Rhett whimpers outright and ruts into Link’s palm quicker, his thighs electric, and cums onto Link’s shirt and jeans, his hips stuttering as he does. “Oh gosh, Link,” he moans, and Link, in a hushed, comforting voice says, “That’s right, that’s a good boy, Rhett.” 

 

Rhett pants hard, his face still to Link’s shoulder, his body hunched up. “ _ Lord _ .” 

 

Link rubs Rhett’s back with his free hand and slips his other out of Rhett’s shorts. “C’mon now.” He gently pushes Rhett away and goes to the sink, lathering up with soap.

 

Rhett, held under by the waves of bliss, leans himself against the doorframe. “Don’t want me to return the favor?” he asks, half delirious. There is obvious tenting to Link’s jeans, Rhett had bumped up against it once or twice, and now he can see it in full view. 

 

“After dinner, I got pasta I gotta put on,” Link explains. “Gotta make sure that chicken is stayin’ moist.” He dries his hands and gives Rhett a pat on the shoulder and a kiss on the cheek as he scoots by him. 

 

“Got any that wulf meat left? Wanna see what we can do with that?” 

 

Link laughs in the kitchen. “I’ll be sure to ask Josh about leftovers. Now git out here and help me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos + comments are appreciated 
> 
> talk to me on tumblr @ficfucker


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